


An Interrupted Cry

by havocthecat



Series: Pirate Queen Lizzie [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/F, F/M, Female Friendship, Femslash, Het, Multi, PTSD, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-01
Updated: 2007-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-04 20:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havocthecat/pseuds/havocthecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Janet makes her way home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Interrupted Cry

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [ here on LJ](http://havocs-cry.livejournal.com/23083.html).

Moonlight gleamed weakly in Janet's room. The doorway to the balcony was open, filmy gauze curtains blowing in the salt-tinged sea air. Janet was sitting in her bed, legs drawn to her chest, and arms wrapped around her knees. She stared blindly at the blanket she'd thrown off when she woke from her nightmare.

A faint rustling caught her attention, and Janet's head shot up. She frowned at the balcony. There was nothing to be seen, but she'd heard-- There it was again. Something scraping against the wall. She'd been given rooms on the second story when they'd stopped at the inn for the night. Most of the expedition was on the third floor, but they'd filled the blocks of rooms quickly, so the landlord of the inn had given her a suite one story down.

She'd appreciated the solitude at the time, but as adrenaline flooded her system, Janet wasn't so sure. She reached slowly for the knife she kept under her pillow these days, slid it from its sheath, and held it by her side as she slipped out of bed. She glanced briefly at the robe laying across the vanity chair, then walked with a measured pace toward the balcony.

"There won't be anything there," whispered Janet. "It's going to be a bird. You _know_ that."

Except as she moved closer, a hand reached up and grasped the balcony ledge, and then a man--a Wraith--was swinging himself up, over the rail, and then he moved into the room towards Janet. His pointed teeth were showing as he smiled at her. "We won't ever let you go," he said, his voice a low growl.

Janet raised the knife. "You won't take me back," she said, taking one step back, then another, toward the door.

"Give us what we want," he said, advancing at the same rate Janet was backing up. A saber was strapped to the side of his black velvet breeches, but his arms were spread, and his hands open.

Janet eyed them, saw the fingers tipped with claws and then met his gray, inhuman eyes. "I realize you and I haven't had this particular discussion," she said. "But let's skip all the usual banter."

The Wraith stayed still, then, his chin lifting as he studied Janet. He laughed then, his low chuckle muffled in the suddenly thick night air. "She was right," he said. "Two long years, and a spirit that she couldn't break. Now you travel with the ones who killed her."

"Your captain?" Janet shook her head. "You weren't on that ship. You weren't part of her crew. Two long years? I learned a lot in that time, and staff officers were just the start of it."

"You were the subject of curiosity," said the Wraith. "We were in negotiations. My captain has long wished you to serve her purposes. Now there is the chance to take vengeance on the one who sank the Hive, and to take you from them. Did you think we would pass that chance by?"

"I'd hoped you wouldn't be looking," muttered Janet. She'd continued to back up, and now the vanity was pressed against the small of her back.

"We have many friends," said the Wraith, moving forward once again, a mocking grin on his face. "And much territory. It took a year, but we found where you were, and when we learned that you would be leading the ambassadorial delegation to your homeland, we knew then we would have our chance at you."

"Idiot," snapped Janet, reaching blindly behind her. Her hand caught on the porcelain washbasin, and with a quick movement, she sent it crashing to the floor, where the shards scattered.

"Damn," cursed the Wraith, lunging at her as the sounds of shouting came from above them.

Janet grabbed her robe from the chair and threw herself to the side, tossing the thick flannel cloth at the Wraith. She hissed in pain as a shard of porcelain sliced the sole of her foot.

"They won't get here fast enough." The Wraith's head darted up at the scent of blood. He pulled the robe off his head and let it fall to the floor, stalking toward Janet. "You and I will be gone before they can follow."

Janet had moved out of reach by then, toward the door. She heard pounding feet on the stairs, but didn't dare glance away as she reached for the lock, fumbling it open as the Wraith moved too quickly for her, arms outstretched to grab her around the waist.

"Mine," he whispered, pulling her tight against him, her hand roughly torn from the door handle.

"No!" exclaimed Janet. She still held her knife, though the Wraith was reaching for her wrist, and she thrust desperately at his side, wincing at the feel of blade slicing into flesh and tearing upwards. Blood poured onto her hand as the door was shoved open. It knocked her down, on top of the Wraith, and she twisted the blade, choking on her fear as Elizabeth drew her saber. Ronon was half a step behind her, advancing on the Wraith.

He pushed Janet away, knocking her toward Elizabeth, who twisted nimbly avoiding Janet's ungainly sprawl. "Your friends won't always be there," he said, his face twisted into a snarl, backing up.

"Neither will you," said Ronon, pointing his saber at the Wraith. "Draw. Now, Wraith."

"You'd fight a weakened opponent, Dex?" The Wraith laughed harshly. He pressed his hand against his wounded side. Janet's knife was still protruding from where it had caught on his ribcage. "It's a wonder you lasted seven whole years running from us."

"Ronon." Elizabeth's voice cracked out as Ronon started forward.

Ronon froze. "Elizabeth--"

"He's wounded," she said, her gaze not leaving the Wraith. "He won't last long."

Ronon glanced back at Elizabeth. "I can kill him now," he said, his tone strained.

The Wraith moved backwards, his easy grace broken only by a slight waver. "Small mercies, Elizabeth," he said.

"Queen Elizabeth to your pathetic kind," said Elizabeth, one eyebrow raised. She studied him dispassionately. "I found Atlantis and took it, when the Wraith had sailed right by it for centuries."

"And now we'll bathe her in the blood of your crew," said the Wraith, his laugh echoing hollowly. He stepped past the curtains, to the balcony ledge, and fell backwards.

"He has a captain," said Janet. She was seated on the floor, holding a wad of clothe to the cut on her foot. "They don't just want me."

"Why didn't you let me kill him?" Ronon whirled on Elizabeth.

"He's wounded," said Elizabeth, nodding at the balcony. "He'll be easier to find. Get Laura and track him. I want his whole cadre so they don't dog us every step of the way to Cheyenne."

"Send Carson in here," said Janet, wincing. "I need stitches, and I can't very well give them to myself."

***

"There you are, lass," said Carson. He patted Janet on the arm, then gave a sympathetic look at her flinch. "I don't think I need to tell you to eat a nice, large steak tomorrow, and take it easy for a few days, do I?"

Janet smiled wanly at him from the padded bench she was sitting on. "Not particularly, no," she said.

"It sounds like we'll be staying here a few more days," said Elizabeth. "Carson, would you mind letting the innkeeper know?"

"Now that I'm done patching Janet up, I'd be glad for something to keep me busy while I wait for Laura and Ronon." Carson glanced anxiously out the window into the dark, cloudy night.

"They'll be fine," said Elizabeth. "They're both experienced soldiers, and he's only one Wraith."

"I know." Carson tried to smile. "If our daughter wakes--"

"Then you'll ask the innkeep for some goat's milk," said Janet. She smiled reassuringly at Carson. "Come and knock on my door if you can't quiet her. I'm always glad to spend time with infants."

"Do you have family where you're from then, Janet?" asked Carson.

"My husband." Janet twisted to check the bandage on her foot, then frowned at it. "I have a daughter as well."

"So you know the sleepless nights Laura and I are going through," said Carson. He chuckled and stood. "She's a handful, our little girl."

"I'm afraid I don't," said Janet. She pushed herself up, ignoring stern looks from Elizabeth and Carson. "She came to live with me when her tribe was killed by the Goa'uld."

"You should rest," said Elizabeth. She put one hand on Janet's arm and gave her a concerned look.

"I have to agree with Elizabeth," added Carson.

"I think it best if you send tonight in my suite," said Elizabeth. "How steady on your feet are you?"

Janet frowned down at her bandaged heel. "I'll need some support."

"I think that's the first time I've heard you ask for help," said Elizabeth, chuckling.

"I wasn't asking," said Janet firmly. Her mouth twitched with laughter. "I was _telling_ you what I wanted."

Carson chuckled. "It just means you're finally comfortable with us," he said. "You don't seem the type of lass to be at all meek."

"You've got to stop calling me 'lass,' Carson," said Janet, raising one eyebrow at him.

***

Sam stood on one of the walls of Cheyenne and surveyed the land around the city. The trees were bare of leaves, but there was no snow yet, only a thick rime of frost on the ground. "Looks like something's up," she said. In the distance, she could see horses picking their way over the bracken.

"Lemme see." Jack stepped closer and shaded his eyes as he peered over the walls. "Are the Goa'uld making a move before winter shuts them down?"

"No." Sam shook her head. "Some kind of trading party, it looks like, but the wagons aren't standard Goa'uld design. They're not flying a Cheyenne treaty flag, though."

"If they're not flying a treaty flag, how the hell did they know how to get up here?" Jack sounded dour. "I hate explorers."

"I know you do," said Sam. She pulled a telescope out of her pocket and held it up to her eyes as she leaned forward. A flash of red hair caught her eye. "Oh, God."

"What?" asked Jack. Sam couldn't find the words answer. "Carter, what is it?"

The sharpness in his voice brought Sam back to herself. She shook her head to clear it, then turned to Jack, her eyes wide with amazement. "It's Janet."

\--end--


End file.
